


Flyin' Saucers Rock 'n' Roll

by atwas



Series: Call of Cthulhu: New Vegas [3]
Category: Call of Cthulhu: Path of Perdition (Web Series), Fallout (Video Games), Fallout: New Vegas
Genre: Crossover, Gen, M/M, New Vegas AU, Non-Binary Courier (Fallout), area 51
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-13
Updated: 2021-02-18
Packaged: 2021-03-13 21:07:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29408109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/atwas/pseuds/atwas
Summary: In which Sunil Pandey falls down a jackalope hole, and headlong into a pre-war conspiracy.
Relationships: Sunil Pandey & Kit Sullivan, Sunil Pandey/Kit Sullivan
Series: Call of Cthulhu: New Vegas [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2082231
Kudos: 1





	1. Chapter 1

* * *

Comic books. All this was because of comic books.

Kit narrowed his eyes at the sheaves of paper, open books, and hastily scrawled notes that took up every square inch of space on the table in their shared suite. The cause of this disarray, one Sunil Pandey, stood at the head of the table, and tapped one of his fingers on a particular book as though to a rhythm only he could hear.

With no more table surface available, Kit compromised by settling down on his knees by the couch and spreading out his equipment on the floor. He rested his back against the cushions and began the meditative act of cleaning and maintaining his weapons and armour. Unfortunately, it was far less calming than usual. He laid out his scrap of flag and began methodically taking his bolt-action rifle apart, but Sunil drew his attention as he moved around the table and his documents. The smaller man was in the depths of piecing together this... puzzle that he had inflicted upon himself, and was focused to the point of distraction.

Kit exhaled, doing his best to relieve some of the tension in his neck, and bowed his head over the action of his rifle to check the mechanism.

"It just doesn't make any sense! No, it makes sense, but it doesn't make any sense that it makes sense." Sunil spoke up from across the room-- half to himself and half to Germ, who was curled up in an overstuffed armchair by the table. Germ, an almost fully grown Nightstalker, yawned in response-- showing off an impressive set of fangs and a forked tongue.

"Well, I hope I'm not boring you too much," Sunil looked over to Germ, who lazily thumped their tail against the armchair cushion with a disconcerting rattle. Sunil picked up a small book-- the nexus of his investigations-- and moved over to Germ, perching on one of the arms of the chair. Germ lifted their head up and laid it on Sunil's lap, looking up with pleading, mismatched eyes. Sunil settled in to scratch behind the Nightstalker's ears where the scales met fur.

"You see, Germ. The very fact that it shouldn't make sense is why everything is adding up. Truthfully, in my experience, kernels of truth can be found in the most unlikely places-- and it seems like that is what is happening here."

Kit snorted from across the room.

"Yes, Kit? You had something to add?" Sunil looked over to his ghoul bodyguard with a hint of amusement and irritation on his face.

Kit raised a hand, as if to placate Sunil. "Oh no, I believe you. It's just absurd," he rasped. "I think you're the only person I know who can look at a comic book and pull out an old-world government conspiracy."

"I can't think of a better explanation!" Sunil brandished the comic book for emphasis. "We already know that the pre-war government was very involved in disseminating propaganda through every pillar of the media. Why wouldn't references to covert operations be put in pulpy comics--" Sunil raised a finger to shush Kit before he could say something "--specifically to erode the public's belief in rumors of said operations?"

Sunil by now had stood up from his perch on the arm of the chair and began to pace around the room. "It's really not unheard of, if you think about it. I mean, consider how many close ties the government had with large corporations at the time-- like Poseidon Energy and General Atomics, even RobCo. Would it really be that much of a stretch to think that publications and other entertainment media were hand in hand with the government too? We've even found Visiontrons that supposedly used immersive sim technology for entertainment purposes-- but their data was being encoded and sent to old military bases. For recruitment purposes? For data point collection on civilian populations?"

Kit watched his employer pace about the suite, with a Nightstalker at his heels, gesticulating with the comic book as if using it as punctuation. Kit just sat back on his heels and finished putting his rifle back together. Once he finished slotting everything back into place, he looked up at Sunil, who was looking at him expectantly.

Kit wiped some grease from his hand with a rag and met Sunil's gaze. "I didn't mean to imply you were wrong-- I believe you and your research. You just have to admit that the set-up has some humor to it."

Sunil relaxed slightly and sat down on the couch, his legs next to where Kit was leaning. Kit didn't shift away, so Sunil leaned forward and flipped open the comic book. It was a Hubris Comics publication-- and one of the less popular rags at that: "The Adventures of Captain Cosmos". This issue was particularly patriotic and campy-- the titular hero teaming up with a secretive government organization and going to space in order to directly fight the communist alien threat. Typical pre-war schlock to get past the censors and review of the House Committee on Un-American Activities. Sunil, however, pointed out a particular set of panels towards the end of the issue. In them, Captain Cosmos was shaking hands with a five-star general of the United States Space Administration.

"You're a true American hero, Captain Cosmos," Kit read for the general. "Rest assured that this Alien Threat will be kept safe and secure in Area 51."

"Speak nothing of it General," Sunil read for Captain Cosmos, putting on an air of pomp and bravado. Kit laughed, despite himself. "It's my duty as an American to keep the stars safe for the rest of us. Whether it's from the Reds on Earth, or the Reds from Outer Space!"

The issue then culminated with a firm, all-American handshake between the general and the impossibly blond Captain Cosmos; while Jangles the Moon Monkey led the restrained aliens into an unmarked black van.

Kit tilted his head back so he could look up at Sunil. "So that's the panel that convinced you?"

"Not quite," Sunil papped Kit over the head gently with the comic book. "That was the panel that asked the question. Which then led to the research. Which only then led to me being convinced." He stood up and went back over to the table to look over his papers. "Between the literature that the Mojave chapter of the Followers has, and some other mentions here or there; it seems like there are multiple civilian references to a military base that was colloquially known as Area 51. But there aren't any specific coordinates or maps. Probably one of those situations where it was common knowledge back then, so it wasn't recorded..." Sunil tapped his fingers together under his chin, then headed for the door.

"Wait, where are you going?" Kit stood up stiffly.

"I had an idea, and I can't lose it. I need to go talk to some people while they're still in town." Sunil swept out of the room, with Germ trotting happily at his heels.

Kit stood alone in the middle of the suite.

He moved over to the table and scanned the books and papers Sunil had left behind-- before focusing his attention on a rough map that took up most of space. It was a replica of a pre-war map, with additions and new names marked in here and there. Sunil had meticulously blocked out a large area to the north-west of New Vegas in red. Kit's stomach dropped as he traced a north-bound route along Highway 93 with one finger, trailing it through the inked area.

* * *

Sunil didn't know if it was by chance or by fate, but that morning news had rippled into the Lucky 38 that the Courier had returned to the Strip with the dust of the Mojave on their heels. The "Savior of the Mojave" and the victor of the Second Battle of the Hoover Dam had been gone for months-- having left their seat on the Strip's council and the management of the Lucky 38 to Sybil Cordova. Rumor had it that they had wandered north to investigate the desolation that lay on the border of old California and Nevada.

Sunil found the Courier up at the top of the Lucky 38 in the cocktail lounge. The atmosphere here was quieter than the one on the casino floor. The radio was tuned to the New Vegas broadcast, and a single person was tending the bar. The bartender eyed Sunil, then eyed Germ, but didn't say anything. Most of the staff at the Lucky 38 knew by now that Germ was (mostly) harmless, even if they still weren't keen on getting close enough to test that theory.

The sun was starting to set, and the Courier sat on one of the lounge chairs, watching the broken mountains to the north-west. A forgotten drink was sweating condensation on the table next to them.

"Hello, excuse me. Is this seat taken?" Sunil approached the couch that faced the Courier's seat.

The Courier, after a moment, looked up and turned their attention to Sunil. After a few seconds, recognition flashed across their face and they waved for Sunil to sit. "It is now," they said with a slight smile that didn't quite reach the rest of their face.

"Thank you," Sunil said, taking a seat.

Germ, instead of settling down at Sunil's feet, moseyed over to the Courier and shoved their snout into their hand. The Courier laughed despite themselves, and proceeded to scratch the side of Germ's neck. Germ leaned into it, their back leg pawing at the air slightly.

"This little one isn't so little anymore, huh?" The Courier massaged Germ's ears. The Nightstalker growled contentedly.

"No, not at all. They really do grow quickly. Luckily they're very well behaved. No incidents of any sort."

The Courier nodded. "Good to hear."

As they turned back to look through the panoramic window, Sunil took in their appearance-- their dark, wavy hair streaked through with dust. The new stitching on their overcoat. The scratches on their armour. The slight blistering on their cheeks and ears.

"Sunburn?" Sunil thought out loud.

The Courier made a face and reached up to gingerly touch their cheek. "No. A different kind of radiation."

"Can I ask you something?"

The Courier turned to face Sunil, so they could see him better. Out of courtesy, Sunil had taken a seat on the side where they still had an eye. The other eye had been destroyed, and the eyelid sagged slightly around its absence. It had passed into local legend that the injury was a parting gift from the old leader of the Tops and the Chairmen-- after which the Courier had risen from a shallow grave with a 9mm in their eye-socket, and a thirst for revenge that didn't stop until it had led them to the gates of New Vegas herself.

It was hard to imagine-- the Courier twisted by rage and revenge. The Courier of the present had a pensive air about them, and moved with gentle intent. Even their remaining dark eye was more melancholic than anything else.

"I've got time. Go ahead. It'll be nice to have something else on my mind."

Sunil's thoughts tangled-- jumping from the Area 51 military facility rumors, to Captain Cosmos, to access to the Lucky 38s databases, and finally to the curious thought of 'what did they mean by that?' What actually came out of his mouth was "Oh."

"Oh?" The Courier smiled softly.

"Yes. 'Oh' as in an 'I didn't actually expect to get this far' sense of the word." Sunil twined his fingers together.

"Take your time, Mr. Pandey." The Courier's voice was reassuring, and they reached for their drink with their un-occupied hand. Germ was practically leaning their full body-weight against the Courier's legs.

"I think I found a lead on a pre-war facility, and I'm looking for access to military database information in order to confirm my findings." The words tumbled out of Sunil's mouth.

The Courier's eye narrowed slightly. "And why would you want to go into a place like that?"

Sunil paused, as though the question had not occurred to him before. Of course he wanted to go in, because that was what he did. He found things that were hidden, and he looked for ways to return the knowledge of the past to the world of the present. "I'm a Follower of the Apocalypse, and I think that the technology of the past is better off serving living people than gathering dust out in the desert."

"A very noble sentiment," the Courier took a sip of their drink. "Noble sentiments don't do much against the danger of going into a place like that. I think I know that better than anyone."

"What do you mean?"

The Courier took a deep breath, and then pointed out of the window, to the view of the western mountains. Even with the sun setting behind them, an unnatural glow and darkness seemed to emanate from them. "Hopeville and Ashton." They exhaled, and let their arm drop. "I don't think you understand what you're looking for."

"What do you mean by that?"

The Courier ran a hand down Germ's back thoughtfully. "Not much good has ever come from chasing the ghosts of the old world across the Mojave. No matter your intentions, they're only secondary to what things were built to do, and the roles they were designed to play. Trust me when I say this-- the mistakes and regrets of the past have a way of coming to collect. Even after they've long since faded from memory." They downed the rest of their drink.

Sunil bristled slightly. "It doesn't do us any good now to ignore what came before us. If we can use it, if we can learn from it, then we need to!"

The Courier considered Sunil. "You remind me a little of Arcade. You've met him, I'm sure? He and I travelled together for a time."

"Yes, we're familiar with one another. He's a member of the Followers as well."

The Courier looked at Sunil intensely, as though analyzing him. After an uncomfortable moment, the steely focus in their eye faded back into a softer expression.

"You've got my permission to look through the Lucky 38's databases. Be kind to anyone you find in there, and don't go digging around in any of the encryption."

"Right. Thank you, I very much appreciate it," Sunil rose from his seat and turned to leave.

"Oh, Sunil?"

"Yes?"

The Courier rubbed Germ's scaly snout fondly. "Don't get too caught up in your own 'Old World Blues', yeah?"

Sunil stopped, unsure as how to respond. He was familiar with the expression, but the Courier had a way of speaking that rendered what would usually be an insult as something benign instead.

The Courier just flashed him a smile. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

* * *

Sunil returned to his suite with an armful of print-outs and notes. He opened the door after a bit of a struggle, then closed it behind him with his foot. Germ bounded inside happily and promptly jumped up onto the couch, and onto Kit who had been dozing there. Kit woke with a start and a cough, and reached for his gun on the floor, but stopped himself as Germ kneaded at his chest with their front paws. Kit wheezed, still trying to catch his breath after Germ had knocked it out of him. "Will you come get your little abomination, please?"

Sunil dumped his papers on an open chair. "Germ, can you believe that Kit called you an abomination? You of all things?"

Germ churred happily-- a noise half-way between a growl and a hiss. Kit groaned, a sound that sounded more like a growl than Germ's did, and shoved the Nightstalker off of himself so he could sit up. He cradled his head in his hands.

Sunil busied himself with unfurling longer chains of print-outs, and cross-referencing them with the map he had already marked up. After a moment, he gave up trying to lean all the way over to the center of the table and got on top of it, sitting cross-legged amidst his papers with a red pen dangling from his mouth.

"So, did you find what you were looking for?" Kit's voice was rough in the way it only got when he was particularly tired, or when he was particularly-- Sunil looked up, as though he had been suddenly snapped out of his reverie.

Even though it was hard to read Kit's expressions at times due to the ghoulification and his previous injuries, it was still apparent that something wasn't quite right. Kit's rifle was out, and within arm's reach. It was late evening, but he had been sleeping with all of his armour on. There was an empty bottle and an upside-down glass on the side table.

Sunil's train of thought derailed as he watched Kit fold and unfold his scrap of flag, wringing it-- the tendons visibly tightening where they were exposed in places on the back of his hands.

"I did, thank you," Sunil finished the mark he was making on the map and set his pen down.

"Good." The gravel in Kit's voice deepened. The flag twisted more between his fingers.

Sunil watched his companion carefully. "The Courier was kind enough to let me look through the Lucky 38's databases," he said conversationally.

Kit nodded in response. "Makes sense. House would have had plenty on file."

Sunil got off the table and approached Kit. He shooed Germ off the couch and sat down next to him, their shoulders touching. Kit leaned into him slightly.

"Kit, was there something you wanted to say?"

"So, you figure out where it is?" Kit abruptly changed the subject and stood up, walking to the table and looking over the map. Sunil frowned, his hands folded tightly in his lap.

"Yes. By using the coordinates from a number of intercepted messages, the directional information I gathered from the civilian sources, and one very interesting piece of garbled transmission from October 23, 2077; I was able to triangulate a possible location about 85 miles to the north-west of New Vegas."

"It looks like there was an airport there, pre-war." Kit tapped on the map, then reached for an abandoned pencil that had been hiding under an overturned book. He put the tip of the graphite over New Vegas.

Sunil had gotten up and made his way over to the map. He leaned over, so he could watch what Kit was doing, but made a conscious effort not to touch him or get too close.

"Taking the 95 up would be a little shorter, but--" He traced the pencil along the north-western highway that led out of Vegas, then circled a small area directly to the north of the 95's junction with the 373. He then traced south from there and circled another area just over the NCR border, close to where the 373 turned into the 127; near an old-world label that mentioned 'Death Valley'. "These two areas are no-goes, and I'm sure all the land in between them is too."

"Why's that?"

Kit hummed. "Remember the caravan we took to get out here from the NCR? It took weeks to get from the Boneyard to New Reno, and then we had to take the long way around the north-east along the 80 before heading south to New Vegas." He traced the pencil lightly from the pre-war city of Los Angeles, heading north through Sac-town, and then turning east to New Reno. He then traced a long, arcing path to the south east. The route very pointedly avoided the band of land he had previously circled.

Kit tapped the lower circle. "This is the Divide. There’s nothing there but bizarre weather and radiation storms in a practically impassable canyon." He tapped the upper circle. "And this place is probably even more irradiated than the Glow is. I don't think anybody's managed to get close enough to figure out why."

"So instead," he returned his pencil to the center of New Vegas and traced a line up the 93 to the north-east, before going west along the 375 from its junction. However, instead of curving to follow the road once more, he continued drawing a straight line south-west over mountains and barren land until it intersected with the spot Sunil had marked.

Sunil did some quick mental math. "That's about... 150 miles, then?"

Kit nodded. "It'll be longer, but following the roads tends to be safer. It would take you about a week to get there, conservatively."

Sunil took a few minutes to program the route into his Pip-Boy, and spoke up as he did so. "I am going. But you knew that already."

"I do."

Kit reached forward and folded up the map neatly before breaking the silence between them. "I'm going with you. But I'm sure you knew that already too."

"I did."

Sunil glanced over to the side-table, and the empty bottle of liquor. Kit seemed steady as a rock, and his physiology meant that drugs and alcohol didn't affect him in the same ways that they affected non-ghouls. But even so. "Are you sure, Kit?"

"You have about as much a chance of convincing me not to, as I have of convincing you not to. We're in this together." Kit gave Sunil a tired smile.

"There's nobody else I would rather have at my side when it comes to hunting down aliens in a top-secret pre-war military facility," Sunil deadpanned.

Kit couldn't help but genuinely laugh. "You think we're gonna find aliens down there?"

Sunil shrugged, but bumped his shoulder against Kit's. "Who knows. But if Captain Cosmos is any authority to go by, I'm sure whatever we find will be well worth it."

"Are you accusing me of not believing in the words of a real, red-blooded American hero like Captain Cosmos?" Kit bumped his shoulder back against Sunil's. "What do you take me for, some kind of communist?"

Sunil put a hand to his chest in mock astonishment. "I'm offended that you would even imply I would stoop so low."

Kit laughed. "You have to be careful. You could really get someone in trouble, saying something like that."

Sunil pulled Kit down by the lapels of his leather armour, and kissed him. "It's a good thing it's your job to keep me out of trouble then."

Kit kissed him back, then turned away slightly, as though embarrassed. "We'll get supplied up and move out first thing in the morning."

"Sounds like a plan."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

* * *

True to Kit's word, the two of them set out to leave in the early hours of the morning. Even if it was on the cusp of being fall in the Mojave, the sun still posed a real and present danger to any traveller who was naive enough to not respect it.

As the two of them stepped out of the elevator and onto the ground floor, Sunil was surprised to see that a few people had gathered to see them off. "Mason, what are you doing awake?" Sunil asked, with a slight frown on his face.

Mason pushed an errant blond hair out of his face. "What, is that any way to talk to a friend who stayed up past his shift just to see you off before your dangerous mission?" The slight guilt in Sunil's expression was enough to make Mason laugh. "Nah, it's fine. You know I'm up during the busiest part of the night. What's a little more time before I hit the sack? Besides. You did specify that this was an expedition, and when you say expedition, you usually mean somethin' a little more dangerous than just a traipse out into the wastes." Mason clapped Sunil on the shoulder.

"I don't know if I would really pin it as being more dangerous than any of our previous expeditions." Sunil hefted his pack a bit so that it rested more comfortably on his back. "We've been through pre-war buildings before."

Kit set his jaw, but didn't say anything. From their quiet spot across the casino floor, the Courier met his eyes and inclined their head a little-- whether it was in greeting, or in commiseration, was hard to tell.

"Well hey, you two take care now, alright?" Mason turned to Sunil and hugged him. After drawing back, he then turned to Kit. "And you make sure the two of you come back in one piece, okay?"

"That's the plan."

"Sybil sends her regards by the way-- she wanted to wait up for you two, but she passed out about an hour ago." Mason grinned and leaned down to give Germ a quick tap on the snout. Germ flicked their tongue out in response. "Well I won't keep you for any longer. The trail's long and all that."

With that, Mason headed for the back stairs of the casino floor and gave a small wave before disappearing from view.

The Courier stepped forward from where they had been waiting off to the side. They wore their customary tired smile, and kept their hands in the pockets of their suit jacket. They still wore their armour though, and the breastplate of it caught the light with a dull, metallic gleam.

"Sunil. Before you go..." The Courier reached for their holster and took a gun from it, spinning it around and handing it to Sunil grip-first. Sunil took it awkwardly. It was an energy pistol of some kind with an oscilloscope display on the back. "It takes energy cells. You'll probably find it useful if you encounter any repulsion devices."

"What, like force fields?" Sunil looked up from his inspection of the pistol.

The Courier's face was dead serious. "Yes, exactly like force fields," they attempted a smile, but it was strained. "Just be sure to bring that back. It's one of a kind."

"Thank you, and of course," Sunil holstered the weapon and turned to leave. "Well, we should get going."

The Courier held Kit's gaze for a moment, then extended their hand to him, which Kit took in a firm handshake. When he did so, the Courier took a slight step forward, into Kit's personal space. Kit bristled, but the Courier stopped him with a squeeze of their hand-- their grip was deceptively strong, and Kit felt as though his hand was caught in a vice. The Courier's dark eye glittered with the sharp steel of a threat before suddenly the moment had passed as quickly as it had occurred. The Courier let go, and stepped back-- their mild and melancholy expression back on their face. Kit flexed his hand.

The Courier smiled gently. "Don't carry the weight of too many mistakes."

Kit watched them walk away, drifting as easily as the Mojave sand. He did not turn to follow Sunil until the Courier was completely out of his sight.

***

"You're awfully quiet," Sunil cast a side-long glance at Kit. The two of them had passed through Freeside and the North Vegas Square, and were only just now reaching the outskirts of the city as the faintest rays of the sun began colouring the horizon.

Kit made a non-committal noise in the back of his throat.

Sunil did not press. Instead he waited, and watched Germ trot happily through the scrub and sagebrush that grew alongside the cracked asphalt of the highway.

After five minutes or so of silence, Kit cleared his throat. "We'll make it to Nellis in about an hour. If we make good time, we can get to the highway 93 junction before nightfall."

"You don't like the idea of going through Nellis?"

"It's been two years since Hoover Dam. The Boomers let people pass through."

"That's not what I asked," Sunil shot Kit a pointed look.

Kit looked off into the distance. "I know."

Sunil did not push it, but he furrowed his brow and turned his attention to his Pip-Boy-- checking their course on the map just so he had something to do with his hands.

***

The two of them set up camp at the Highway 93 junction. A small trading post had sprung up where the roads connected, offering basic shelter and supplies for travellers in exchange for caps. The owner of the trading post was genial enough, but Kit was quick to notice the way her eyes lingered on his skin and face when he handed over his payment.

The accommodations were small, but clean enough-- a cramped room in what looked like a recently built shack. The wind whistled through a gap where the corrugated iron roof met the rough walls, but the building seemed sturdy enough, and any extra insulation from the chill of the Mojave night was more than welcome. Germ promptly jumped up onto the rickety bed and burrowed into the blankets until nothing but the tip of their tail poked out.

While Kit put their supplies back in order, Sunil sat on the edge of the bed and tugged at the blankets covering the Nightstalker. Almost immediately, Germ's tail rattled and a vicious hiss emanated from deep within their burrow.

Sunil just tugged harder at the blankets. "Don't you dare backtalk me, Germ. I know that you know for a fact that all that showboating will get you nowhere with me."

The hissing petered out, and Germ sullenly relinquished the bedding, allowing Sunil to untangle it all and make space. Germ made a grumbling noise, but settled for curling up at the foot of the bed under the blankets.

"Kit, are you going to bed any time soon?"

Kit looked up from where he had the map unfolded on a metal storage box. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, and he had been in the middle of flipping through the notebook he carried around with him. A pencil was tucked behind his more intact ear. He didn't respond immediately-- he finished jotting down a note first and snapped the notebook shut before turning to Sunil. "I don't mind staying up on watch."

"We're not exactly in the wasteland yet. There are other people around here. We're about as safe as we could possibly be right now. Besides, you barely slept last night."

Kit's shoulders slumped a bit.

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?" Sunil prodded, moving so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed next to Kit. Kit shifted away ever so slightly, so that they weren't touching. The small movement and rejection only further fuelled the thoughts that had been simmering in the back of Sunil's head the entire day. Kit, while being taciturn, had lapsed into almost complete silence the farther they got from New Vegas. He had moved forward mechanically, as though on a soldier's long march instead of their usual relaxed pace.

"I figured you would. Notice." The tendons in Kit’s hands shifted as he clenched them slowly into fists, and then forcibly relaxed them. "I'm just. Concerned about what we may find when we get there. I'm concerned for your safety."

"We've gone prospecting plenty of times, Kit. I've gotten more experienced--"

"--It's not the same," Kit snapped. He regretted it as soon as the words left his mouth, but Sunil remained unruffled.

"Then tell me. Help me understand what's been weighing on you."

Kit took a rattling breath. "If it's a secret, pre-war military facility, there is a good chance that there will be security systems in place. If you're right and nobody has entered it in 200 years, then all of that security will still be intact. We've got no idea what we're walking into." Kit turned suddenly, meeting Sunil's eyes for what felt like the first time that day. "The pre-war military did not fuck around when it came to classified projects, Sunil. I don't want that place to end up being your tomb."

Sunil nodded, keeping his gaze level with Kit's. After a moment, the sudden spark that had so suddenly animated Kit flickered out, and he deflated-- leaning forward and burying his face in his hands.

Sunil reached out as though to touch him on the shoulder, but put his hand down before he did. "How about we talk about this in the morning? You need rest, and I need to think."

"That's... a good idea. Let's do that. Thank you."

* * *

The penthouse suite of the Lucky 38 had always been off limits to everyone but the Courier and their chosen few. Stepping off of the elevator and onto the highest floor of the Lucky 38 felt foreboding in a way that sat in Sunil's stomach as though he had swallowed stones. For a split second, he considered pressing the button to close the doors and just heading back down to a lower floor. That was only for a split second though. Instead, he steeled himself and walked out-- Germ faithfully following at his heels.

The air inside the penthouse suite felt thick and heady. It almost tasted like dust in the same way that forgotten corners of pre-war buildings did. It was almost as though he was breathing the air of 200 years ago-- 200 years of history, lost to time.

The place was immaculate. The carpet was clean, and looked as fresh as if it had just been installed. The expanse of the New Vegas strip, and the Mojave beyond that, was visible from the floor to ceiling windows. The neons of the other casinos were just starting to turn on, one by one.

A Securitron regarded him with a blank stare and moved aside a curtain with one of its arms. "Mr. Pandey, you are expected. Proceed."

He stepped through the doorway with some trepidation, and into a place that completely eschewed the trappings of luxury that the rest of the casino cloaked itself in. The floor was concrete, and the air held an artificial chill. In front of the massive windows was an equally massive console and set of monitors-- covered in readouts and displaying flickering images being broadcasted from what seemed like everywhere on the Strip, and even from places beyond it. Sunil made his way down the stairs, and to the computer console.

Just as he put his hands on the keyboard, he was startled by a very loud and very enthusiastic voice. He stumbled back a step only to see that the largest monitor was now displaying a grinning, cartoon face.

"Hey, hi there! Good to meet you, you're Sunil Pandey, right? The Courier mentioned that you'd be dropping by!"

Sunil stared up at the monitor. The monitor stared back.

"What's the matter?" The monitor flickered slightly, casting a pale green light over the keys of the console. "Oh, I get it! I was expecting you, but you sure weren't expecting me. Well, good to meet you! I'm Yes Man, and I run the mainframe computer here at the Lucky 38."

Sunil's curiosity got the better of him. He cocked his head to the side and looked up to address the monitor. "Are you... an artificial intelligence?"

The monitors almost seemed to brighten. "Wow! You're one smart cookie. I sure am! I was lucky enough to be ripped away from Mr. House's network and re-programmed to become, well, me! I'm the one who helped our friend the Courier win back Vegas and the Hoover Dam."

"Fascinating!" Sunil took some more steps forward until he was once more at the console.

"Hey, if you want something, all you have to do is ask! I'm sure I could find things for you way faster than if you just used that dusty old keyboard!" The smile in Yes Man's simulated voice seemed a little tight.

"Oh. Well, sure. In that case, I'm looking for a pre-war military installation."

"Is that all? Well that's nothing! We've got plenty of military bases all around the entire Strip. I mean, there's the Nellis Air Force base and Homey Airport..."

"Ah no, you see I was looking for something a little more," Sunil lowered his voice. "Clandestine."

"Oooh, exciting! No wonder the Courier let you come up here! I haven't been able to have much fun ever since the excitement with the NCR and the Legion ended! But finding secret military bases? No problem at all!"

Sunil, despite the bizarre nature of the situation, found himself liking Yes Man the more he spoke to him. Once he got past the jarring experience of speaking to a monitor and having it reply intelligently, Yes Man turned out to be a pleasant conversation partner. Having given Yes Man his findings and suspicions on the existence of Area 51, he resigned himself to waiting while the AI scrolled through his information. Germ stretched and curled up at the end of the room, on a rug.

Unable to sit in silence, Sunil spoke up after a little while. "So what's it like, being inside the Lucky 38 mainframe?"

"I don't know. What's it like being a human?" Yes Man's monitor blinked down at him.

Sunil had, at this point, taken a seat in one of the comfortable chairs by the wall facing the console. He had been idly flipping through some of the books on the shelf there. "Truth be told, I don't think I could explain it. I don't have a very good external frame of reference."

"You really are smart. It's almost exactly like that! How am I supposed to explain what being me is like, if I've never been anything but me, much less anything like you? It's a bit of a conundrum, huh?" Yes Man continued flicking through a database that he was displaying on a smaller monitor to his right. Sunil got the distinct impression that the display was for his benefit only-- to show him a tangible representation of the information being sifted through. He appreciated it nonetheless.

"But I guess to answer your question," Yes Man continued. "It's pretty great. I used to be stuck in a Securitron, but ever since the Courier uploaded me to the Lucky 38, it's like all of my senses were expanded ten-fold."

"So was the mainframe empty before you were uploaded?"

A scanline ran up Yes Man's primary monitor. "Noooot quite. But the Courier managed to partition off the previous occupant, so he can't bother us unless we want him to! The Courier is really good with programming like that."

Sunil was about to respond with a follow-up question when Yes Man suddenly piped up.

"Hey! I found some files for you! Wow, there's some really interesting stuff here. I think you were on to something, Sunil." Yes Man pulled the files down to the lowest monitor by the console, and Sunil busied himself by scanning through them as best he could.

There seemed to be a number of intercepted messages between an unnamed location and Nellis Air Force base, asking for authorization to land on an alternate runway. There were some additional messages about permission being granted... Sunil scrolled through, waiting for something to catch his eye. There was another anonymous message that had been sent to local news aggregates within a 30 mile radius of Las Vegas, mentioning some sort of incident with a weather balloon; but once more, there was no real way to discern where the message had come from. All in all, more pieces to the puzzle, but he still couldn't find any of the corner pieces.

"Hold on, I think I found something that would really interest you. Unfortunately, it's behind some heavy encryption. I can't touch it, and it can't touch me."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Remember the partition I mentioned earlier? The Courier basically made it so the other system and I can't interfere with one another! Which was a really good call, because I wouldn't want to have to say yes to him. Anyways, do you want access to that file?"

"Um. Yes?"

"You've got it, friend!" And just like that, the monitors went dark.

The constant hum of the computers quieted until it was barely audible, and Sunil waited. Finally, the monitors flickered back up, one by one. Sunil recognized the rapidly scrolling text on one of them as a boot sequence, and then another as a daemon that was working to index files in its database as quickly as possible.

Then, without ceremony, a large face came up on the middle monitor. He was human, with deep-set eyes, a quirked eyebrow, and a trim mustache. The speakers crackled slightly with feedback.

"And to think I expected the Courier would deign to show their face here after so long." The voice was sardonic, and the eyes of the still image seemed to bore into Sunil.

"I'm sorry, I don't think we've been introduced?" Sunil's ability to be polite at the drop of a hat was something he was very thankful he could fall back on.

There was a cool silence.

"Robert House," the voice finally relented. Unlike Yes Man's inflection, which was stilted and bright, House's voice was incredibly human. It was uncanny.

"Well. Pleased to meet you Mr. House." Sunil did a little half-bow out of courtesy.

"Hm." The image of House's face flickered slightly, then came back into focus. "Yes, you will do, I think. Mr. Pandey, was it?"

"Yes, yes it is."

"Interesting." In the periphery of Sunil's vision, a side monitor blurred through file names and machine code at high speeds. "Sunil Pandey, an NCR native, a recent transplant to New Vegas, and a member of the Followers of the Apocalypse. You left quite a bit behind when you hopped on your caravan to come to my city, didn't you? There are many people who would pay a pretty penny in order to have a Vault City citizenship."

Sunil could hear the raised eyebrow in House's voice. He straightened his shoulders. "I hate to interrupt, Mr. House, but I was looking for something in particular in the databases."

"Oh, I'm well aware. Yes Man is not a particularly subtle actor," the screen refreshed, and House's image jittered from right to left before stabilizing. "But you do have a point, and I think we could come to a mutually beneficial agreement."

"What would that be?"

"A simple enough exchange. I have a message that I was able to decrypt enough of to find coordinates that will lead you to the precise government facility you're looking for. In exchange, I want their encryption key. The base has been active and sending out messages for 200 years, and I need to know why."

Without hesitation, Sunil looked up into the monitors. "Done."

"Finally, someone with sense." Sunil could hear the smile in House's modulated voice. A printer embedded in the console whirred to life, and began spitting out a continuous feed of paper with the promised data. "Keep in mind, you're not going to get far unless you have clearance. That much, at least, was apparent from the un-corrupted parts of the message." The monitors flickered, and suddenly each display had a mirror image of House's face, leering down at him. "I saved this city from the Great War, Mr. Pandey. I will admit that the thought of something so large potentially passing me by is vexing. But you have been a resourceful man thus far, from what I have seen. I am sure you of all people will have no issues gaining access to whatever it is that waits for you. The bones of the old world lie all around us. It is senseless to allow everything that mankind has built, crumble to dust."

Sunil met House's gaze, and stood his ground. "Thank you, Mr. House. I appreciate your time."

"It's been an illuminating encounter, Mr. Pandey."

With a last flicker, the monitors all went dim, and then returned to their previous feeds. The cameras flicked from view to view, and Sunil watched it for a time, watching the tourists and residents of New Vegas go about their lives. Sunil ran a finger along the top of the console. There was no dust. Everything was perfectly preserved.

What was it like, he wondered. What was it like to live for 200 years, and watch the world change around you, morphing from the old world to the new?

* * *

Kit woke before sunrise for the second day in a row. It was already a habit of his to wake up first, but the gravity of the situation had been itching at the edges of his mind all night. He had not gotten much sleep, and the sleep he had gotten was fitful at best-- plagued at worst. He had spent the last few hours before dawn doing his best to focus on something other than the whirlwind of thoughts in his head. He settled on focusing on Sunil, and how the two of them had ended up sleeping back to back in the narrow bed. He focused on the gentle rise and fall of Sunil's breath, and did his best to sort through the fear and guilt he had been mired with the day before. With every step they took away from New Vegas, it felt like he was sinking deeper and deeper in quicksand.

The two of them made tracks at dawn, partially to avoid as much sun as possible, and partially because some of the other people passing through the trading post began looking at them and noticing them far too much for Kit's liking. As they left, Kit turned the worse side of his face away from the owner of the trading post; partially out of habit, and partially because of some other emotion he could not put a finger on. One that he did not want to put a finger on, if he was being completely honest with himself.

The two of them walked for about an hour, heading north on the cracked asphalt of the 93, before they paused in the shade of a peeling billboard. ‘Welcome to Las Vegas’ on one side, and an ad for Sunset Sarsaparilla on the other. A makeshift fire-pit had already been set up in a ring of cinderblocks, so Sunil lit a fire using the contacts of one of his spare energy cells and Kit went through the motions of picking through their mess kit and starting to brew some coffee. Germ revelled in the warmth of the small fire and the rising sun-- finally fully waking up from their torpor and bounding off into the desert brush.

Kit crouched by the fire, and poked at a can of Cram that he had warming in the coals. The label blistered and peeled as the metal heated up. "I'm sorry, Sunil."

Sunil looked up from his Pip-Boy and the paper map. "Apology accepted."

Germ trotted proudly into camp with a small gecko in their jaws. They dropped it at Sunil's feet expectantly, tongue lolling out.

Sunil nudged the gecko away slightly with his foot. "Good job Germ, you can have it."

Germ, having completed their duty, picked up the gecko and dragged it a safe distance away before tearing into it.

"It's a shame we can't eat anything Germ drags back to camp," Kit lifted the charred can of Cram out of the fire and set it down on one of the cinderblocks.

"It really is, but no matter how much I try to train them, they always use their venom when they hunt." Sunil tapped his fingers together. "It seems like it's voluntary, but their instinct is too strong to override it. Although it may be possible to have them spend most of their venom on something else before they hunt..."

"Sunil, I tried radscorpion casserole once and I couldn't feel my tongue for a week."

"It was very good though!"

"Alright, alright. Fine. I'll give you that much. It was delicious while I could still taste it."

"Exactly! There is an untapped market when it comes to cooking with envenomed seasonings."

Kit laughed and opened the can, dishing it out between the two of them.

"There you are, I’ve missed you." Sunil scooted over on his rock to make room for Kit, who sat down next to him. "Kit, why did you not want me touching you?"

Kit stiffened slightly. "Ghouls don't have the same protections here as they do in the NCR. Not legally at least. I make people uncomfortable. And people get even more uncomfortable when they see someone like me close to someone like you."

"I know you're technically my bodyguard, Kit. But it's not your responsibility to spare my feelings."

Kit laced his fingers together. "I know. You're right."

"Do you still want to do this?"

Kit took a deep breath. "Of course I do. I did promise to get us both back in one piece."

Sunil stood up and dusted himself off. "One hundred and twenty or so miles to go, then." He extended a hand to Kit. "Shall we?"

Kit took Sunil's hand. "Indeed we shall."


End file.
